Combustible Silence
by TEi Has Pants
Summary: Longshot tries to explain archery to The Duke.


_**Combustible Silence**_

**Author's Note:** This story is a fan fiction - nothing more, nothing less. It has been made purely for entertainment purposes, and is not meant for commercial gain. Avatar: The Last Airbender and all characters, places and concepts are copyright of Nickelodeon, Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko. All original characters are copyright their respective owners and are used with their permission.

- - -

"Hey, Longshot."

The archer craned his neck back as he tightened his bowstring; dangling upside-down by his knees from a tree-branch above, with the crimson-red leaves of the forest as a backdrop, was The Duke, one hand pressed against the top of his helmet to keep it from slipping off. He grinned, his eyes sparkling, and waggled the fingers of his free hand at the archer. It was hot, balmy - smack in the middle of summer, the air thick and almost unbearable, sweat wriggling down Longshot's back and underarms, threatening to roll from his forehead and into his eyes. He could see a sheen of sweat on The Duke's bare chest, but if the young man was any more afflicted by the humidity than that, he did an admirable job of hiding it.

Sitting on the edge of the platform his and Smellerbee's house was situated on, with a variety of bow maintinence supplies to his left, Longshot hiked a querying eyebrow at the energetic young man dangling from above. What was up?

"I just wanted to say 'hello,' you know?" The Duke gave an upside-down shrug. "Saw you working here, by yourself, figured maybe you could use somebody to talk to - um, but you know what I mean." The Duke ammended himself so quickly that the last few words ran together.

Already, Longshot suspected an ulterior motive: being an archer meant being perceptive, especially so in his case, where words carried far more weight than people gave credit for. It was imperitive to pay attention to body language and tone of voice; subtle perceptions were his trade. The way The Duke fidgeted, the way he kept glancing left and right despite his exuberant disposition...he wanted to talk about something. That was fine; Longshot made a good sounding board, so he beckoned the younger Freedom Fighter to sit beside him.

"Ah - um, sure!" The Duke pushed himself away from his tree branch and landed on his feet next to the archer, a gentle breeze washing over him. Plopping down to Longshot's right, The Duke cleared his throat and said, "So, what's up?"

Nothing much, really; he was using the recent lull to work on his archery gear, replacing bowstrings that had begun to fray, fletching and sharpening arrows. Hardly glorious work, but necessary.

"That's cool," The Duke replied, scratching his cheek and grinning - but it was an absent grin, and Longshot let a low sigh pass through his nose. The Duke noticed - again, back-tracking, scrambling, and added, "No, I mean, really! It is. I don't know a whole lot about archery."

Longshot just shrugged. Maybe it was best if they skipped the small talk? Longshot was terrible at that stuff anyway.

"Yeah, maybe." The Duke shook his head and glanced outward, away from them, into the depths of the forest. "Um - I was wondering if you could tell me why you became an archer."

Huh...that was an unusual request. He'd been an archer since...since before he joined the Freedom Fighters. Longshot cast his gaze down to the bow in his hands - a beautiful piece, this one, with a gazelke-horn belly and a dark-oakwood core. It was something he had, ah, "liberated" from the upper ring of Ba Sing Se in the middle of the battle for the city, with Sozin's Comet burning a golden tear in the blood-red sky. (The specifics, though, were a story for another day.)

"So it's a The Time Before thing?" The Duke hiked his eyebrows. "It's probably not my place to know, then."

The Time Before - an untouchable, precious thing, something every Freedom Fighter had, but not all of them remembered. A time where life was simple and they were still innocent. While it wasn't exactly taboo to ask somebody about their own Time Before, it was just something that didn't really come up; all that mattered was the here-and-now, that the Freedom Fighters were together and that was that. Longshot, amongst others, never really went around telling people about his own Time Before simply because nobody bothered asking. (And that was fine - don't get him wrong, he wasn't really hurt by the notion. It wasn't like he went around asking, either.)

But...he didn't really mind sharing - only on the condition that The Duke tell Longshot what's troubling him. Deal?

"Hah! Well, if that's all it'll take to get you to spill the beans, then consider it done." The Duke beamed and crossed his arms over his chest. "But you gotta go first."

Fine, but he'd better not reneg on his end of the bargain. Longshot gave him a sly smirk. So...archery, then?

"Yeah. Please," The Duke added, nodding mostly to himself.

Well...when Longshot was younger, his father would read him and his sister stories - ancient legends, myths, tales of demon and god and spirit and man. Of an age before the Avatar, of all the ages to come since then. His father was a fantastic storyteller; every word was like a stroke of the brush, ripe with emotion and passion. It was...an important thing, Longshot's relationship with his father through these stories.

"Ah..." The Duke glanced away and bit his lower lip. "I'm sorry, I..."

Longshot smirked and play-punched The Duke's bicep. Hey, he was trying to tell a story of his own; just because the context was what it is didn't mean he had to get all somber about it. It's obvious The Duke didn't come here to get bummed out, so just bounce with it. It was one of The Duke's strengths.

"Hah, alright. I won't get all bent out of shape over it then, only because you asked." The Duke grinned again. "Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a sweet bun in my mouth."

Longshot rolled his eyes and snorted, a grin tugging up on his lips. Anyway...Longshot remembered his favorite story had been about an archer, a noble thief who could hit a bulls-eye from fifty paces away, stealing from the wealthy and overprivaliged and giving his spoils away to those in poverty. He'd loved it so much that, for one of his birthdays, his parents had gotten him an ameteur archery set; as a kid, Longshot was fascinated by the fictional archer's honorable intentions, and had dreamed of being just like him. And then...

"And then, the Fire Nation came through." The Duke blew out a puff of air and scrunched his eyebrows. "Right?"

Right. And from there, the Irony Spirit had Longshot in her grasp. It was funny how it worked out: soon enough, he'd be using his archery skills to steal from the rich (the Fire Nation) and give to the poor (the Freedom Fighters). Granted, under Jet's lead, their intentions weren't _always_ that honorable, but it had made sense at the time. Longshot drew one knee up to his chest and shrugged. But they were all older now, and they all knew better, right?

"Right." Leaning back on his hands, The Duke grinned and said, "and it took you years to get as good as you are."

Archery wasn't an easy thing to master, no. It required a lot of patience. Many of the practiced combat styles in the Freedom Fighters were instantatneous or reactionary; archery was searching for the right moment to take the shot and making sure your eyes were sharp enough to hit your target, mostly. Longshot quirked his head to the side and furrowed his brow. He supposed the circumstanses changed depending on how you were deployed, though. He'd overheard Skillet and Sneers talking about how military leaders used their archers en masse, just shooting into crowds of enemies. Didn't really need much accuracy _or_ patience for that.

"That's a good point, I guess." The Duke hunkered forward and draped his hands between his knees, pursing his lips. "It's like most other ways of fighting; it's pretty flexible depending on the context. Not like, say, explosives."

Aha - there. Longshot let his eyes slide shut and allowed a ghost of a smile to cross his face. That was what was bothering The Duke, wasn't it?

"Huh?" The Duke blinked, and then flashed a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his helmet. "Ah, I guess I kind of gave myself away there."

Longshot raised a knowing eyebrow. Smellerbee had come to him a few days ago, practically forcing some close-combat training on him. She'd mentioned something about The Duke asking for a similar back-up strategy.

"Haha, yeah." The Duke shook his head. "It's kinda silly - me worrying about anything, I mean. But I feel like, one of these days, I'll be stuck in a situation where I won't have my comfort-zone weapons, and I'm trying to broaden my horizons."

So that was what had spurned his sudden interest in archery?

"Yeah." The Duke shrugged. "No offense, but all that talk of accuracy and patience just isn't my thing. Explosives are a controlled science, but moreso in the pre-production stages. I guess the best way to describe it would be if the most important part of archery was maintaining the equipment." He gestured at the supplies beside Longshot to accentuate his point. "You measure the chemicals, handle the powders and gels just the right way, and that stuff is all _very_ precise, but once you get on the battlefield, it's just a matter of lighting the bomb and hurling it in the general direction of the nearest baddie."

Well, there were certainly ways to circumvent the limitations of his style. Longshot clapped The Duke on the shoulder and smiled. The younger Freedom Fighter was a smart cookie, and he'd be more than able to figure his way around those problems.

"Well, I guess I _am_ pretty smart if..." The Duke stopped mid-boast, and his eyes went wide; Longshot furrowed his brow and leaned away from the younger Freedom Fighter, because the sparkle in his eyes was a familiar, dangerous sign. "I got an idea."

Uh-oh.

"No, no, no - it's a good one!" The Duke clenched his fists and grinned, a giddy, childlike expression that signified great personal harm coming to _somebody_. "Bomb arrows. We could make it work! Strap an explosive to an arrow, then fire said arrow at a particular target: even if you don't hit spot-on, you still do more precise area-of-effect damage! If you _do_ hit your target, well, that's even better!" The Duke threw one arm over Longshot's shoulder and drew the archer in close, waggling is eyebrows. "I'll need a partner to go in on this with me. Somebody who's good with archery. You with me? Consider it an artistic collaboration, two awesome forms of martial arts merging to become one even more awesomer form! I'll even give you top billing - "

Longshot wasn't quite sure when he'd gotten up; all he knew was that he'd pried himself away from The Duke and had hurried away with his current goal to put as much distance between himself and the younger Freedom Fighter as possible. From behind, Longshot heard The Duke call, "So I'll put that down as a 'maybe,' then?" before the archer absolved himself of any further responsibility with the child.

It was purely out of concern for his own personal well-being, though, so that made it alright.


End file.
